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Monday, 9 June 2014

So a couple years back I suffered from infrequent gallstone attacks. Those hurt lots. But after starting the GAPS diet, I didn't get another one. In two years I haven't had one. But then I got preggers and couldn't eat GAPS diet food anymore on pain of barfing. The introduction of other foods (I think in particular ice cream, which I've been craving more than is decently admitted) caused me to awake at 4 in the morning one day with a familiar, burning pain in my upper tum region. It's a relentless pain that can't be ignored and I couldn't sleep. So I shuffled out to the living room where Ben was getting ready for work.

Luckily it wasn't a full blown attack (which would have included hyperventilating, vomiting, crawling around on hands and knees and groaning aloud) but it was enough to put me on my guard. So for a week I was good. I took fresh pressed grape, cucumber, lettuce and apple juice every morning with a squeeze of lemon. I cut out all meat but fish, and all sources of fat but omega 3's. I cut out all processed foods and ate mainly salads and fish and sourdough buckwheat bread. I drank lots of water.

I was really sick the first couple of days, much to Owen and Angus' fascination. Angus would kindly commentate in his cheerful voice as I hung over the sink in misery.

But then I got better, and my gallbladder stopped aching and I stopped getting sick. I knew in my heart that I should continue the gallbladder/liver-friendly diet for another couple of weeks at least. But...I'd already eaten so much fish...what about mercury? And I was tired of salads. I wanted cheese. And...*gulp* ....ice cream.
So I was bad. And I ate all those things I wanted. And at first I was ok. But now I am not again. My gallbladder hurts and I am sick again. My children are once more spectators of the churned up food that flows like a rushing river out of my mouth.

*sigh* back to the salads.

And I leave you with a naked Owen. He is 5 but still so innocent that he has no notion of nakedness. The other day he walked quite casually into the dining room of his grandma's house where we were all eating and playing games, without a stitch of clothing on.

He is such a darling though. I am going to talk about it at his wedding.

Saturday, 7 June 2014

This week, preschool was held at Scout Island instead of the CDC. My kids usually love Scout Island, so I thought it'd be no problem. But no. When we got there, it was very stressful. First, both of them were upset at the change in routine. And then Owen was crying, begging to go, and Angus was crying because he didn't want to go.

Basically, I ended up leaving Angus there, and strapping Owen into the car. I had been planning on going to the gym while they were at preschool, so I was feeling pretty upset myself at the change in plans. Owen however was quite content to leave and kept insisting he didn't want to stay. I knew it was because he was planning to watch movies and play on his iPad. So I told him sternly that if we went home, he wouldn't be doing either.

He cried and cried. Finally, the thought of going home with a stern and upset mummy, without the balm of iPad and movie, was enough to convince him to stay, and he asked to stay. So I unstrapped him and raced to catch up to everyone else.

Then I went to the gym, my morning salvaged. Or so I thought.

But guilt kept sparking in my chest. I just missed up an opportunity to bond with my son, I realized. I rarely get one on one time with Owen. Angus is so demanding for my attention, and Owen is not. And I'd been wanting some bonding time with Owen lately. But instead, I'd upset him and made him cry and....it was about this time in my thought process that a song began to play.

Not just any song. The Universe chose that moment to foist Little Boy Blue on me.

Tuesday, 3 June 2014

So I started this post two weeks ago. But better late than never! This is what happened:

I went to pick up Owen from his usual Friday appointment with his Behavioral Interventionist at the CDC here in town. Angus and I were a little early, so I sat and talked with the B.I, Trish, while Owen and Angus took off playing in the ball pit.
Trish, as usual, had nothing but praise to say about Owen. "He is so amazing. I was just amazed." Were frequent words out of her mouth. "He's making so much progress!" She went on to say that she thinks if we got him assessed, he would lose his diagnosis of autism.

As I drove home, I cried happy tears. I sent up many prayers of gratitude. My heart overfilled with thankfulness.

When I think back on this journey--which isn't over yet--I'm not so confident he'd lose his diagnosis if assessed--but anyways, it was a very hard, frustrating one, especially at first. When he was 18 months and Angus was born, I remember how he wouldn't respond to his name. I'd say it ten times, perhaps, and nothing. He was in his own bubble.

It wouldn't have been such a concern, but at 2 yrs, and then at 3, there was still no progress. He would still not respond to his name, and had virtually no language. He'd learn a word or two, but then lose it a couple weeks later.
(this was despite going to a speech pathologist from age 2 on. There was no progress in his language for a whole year of speech therapy)

And then there were the irrational fears: stepping on grass and ceiling fans, to name a couple. would scream, cry, shake, cling desperately to mom/dad rather than step on grass or be in the same room as a ceiling fan. And he would also get very strong attachments to strange things, like washers/bolts, etc. He'd have it clutched in his hand for a week or more.

This story does have a happy ending, thankfully. I've written about it in here already. You all know about how when Owen turned 3 and was formally diagnosed, Ben and I implemented the GAPS diet right away, and how within a month he began to talk and we saw improvements. And late last year, we also began to implement the protocol found in this book.

We've seen nothing but improvements. Let me just share a few:

His language. He is always talking now:

He stands up for Angus in Preschool. Kids play with him. They want to be his partner. Everyone remarks on what a happy child he is. The CDC talks about him in their meetings as their great success story. Everyone loves working with him because he is so bright and cheerful and learns so fast.

Saturday, 1 February 2014

The thing with having boys is that they are ROUGH! I love chasing giggling chubby boys and gathering them up and kissing their tummies as much as the next person. I love pretending to eat them. Things like that. But I tell you. I cannot sit on the couch without being attacked. Roughly! Boy-ly.

The thing is, this is the sort of thing they inherited straight from their Daddy's genepool. 'Rough-housing' (as mudsy calls it) is not something I find enjoyable or have EVER done (unless engaged in ferocious violent fights with my sisters as a young child). On the other hand, Ben still actively searches out opportunities to wrestle--it's one of his all time favourite things. The problem is, due to his job, he is gone a lot, and can go for a stretch of 5 days without seeing the kids. So it is up to me, a 'delicate' girl, to satisfy my boys' wild wrestling impulses. I get my head bashed a lot.

Monday, 27 January 2014

Owen, like most other children, believes firmly that in order for an 'ouchie' to feel better, he needs a kiss. Right on the exact spot.

I love it. I mean, back before the GAPS diet, I used to try and try to get him to learn the word 'ouchie', like a normal kid, over and over. Now he not only knows the word, but asks for a kiss too...it melts my heart. The only thing is, a lot of the time he gets hurt from falling and stuff, and a lot of the time, the hurt spot is well... :

(those are the exact words he uses. so cute).

Seeing as how I have no intention of kissing ANYONE'S bum, luckily Owen is satisfied if I kiss my fingers and then lightly touch his bum. But the first time that happened, I was a bit thrown!

It is grey and cold here in Williams Lake. I miss the coast and it's wet, mild winters. Yes, I miss it enough that I wouldn't even complain about getting the bottom of my jeans wet anymore. That is how much.

Friday, 24 January 2014

So truthfully, I've had to give up almost all sweets for some time now. And when I do eat them, I have to make them myself from healthy ingredients. Grain-free, sugar-free, etc. And even then, I have to have only small amounts, 'cause anything sweet, even an apple, can make me a lil nauseous.

Disregarding all this, last Sunday I made a chocolate silk pie. A healthy one, of course. But still. A chocolate silk pie is a chocolate silk pie, you know?

Anyways, as I was making it, I was like, 'Bethany, you've been so good, I think you deserve a treat', so I left lots of chocolate in the bowl for myself to lick out. You know, like a kid would do.

I started feeling sick almost immediately, but I tried to ignore it. Then Ben came and collected me and the pie to go to his parent's house for Sunday dinner.

After dinner, I wasn't feeling much better, but I had no intention of NOT having any of the pie I'd laboured over. So I brought my plate over to where Ben was cutting it, and I saw this: some very big, fat pieces of pie, and then some wimpy little small slivers of pie.

I took a big one.

I couldn't finish it. I was soo sick. That is a big deal for those who know me. I am no lightweight when it comes to rich chocolate things! But I guess my body just can't handle it any more.

Uggggh.

So then I stood in the dark doorway of Gail's room and did hoedowns, after sternly telling no one to watch me. Everyone did, of course.

May I say here, that I pretty much worship hoedowns. Every time my blood sugar is too high and I am suffering, all I have to do is five minutes of hoedowns and I feel amazing. It's a miracle, pretty much.

So that's my story! Let it be a warning to all. (oh and this is not an endorsed post, fashioned in order to drive people in droves towards t-tapp and hoedowns! It is simply the truth.)

Friday, 17 January 2014

No posts for months and then two in two days?! It just shows, anything is possible.

There have been many things happening in my life that I've wanted to post about throughout the past few months. One of these things is something I never thought I'd ever want to do: quilting.

you may be surprised to read this, seeing as how I DON'T look like this:

However, it's true. One day I was reading a book, and it had quilts in it, and suddenly I was struck! There are so many artistic possibilities in quilts! How had I not seen this before?!

ergo, quilt! Well, this is really just a quilt top, I have yet to baste and quilt it and stuff. I laid it over top of our (ugly) (and boring) comforter which we got from walmart. *shame*

And since you can't see it from the above photo, I took it upon myself to point out that there are WOLVES on my quilt. And they are inside out too. That's right, I used the wrong side of the fabric on purpose. That's the way I roll.

Hi. I'm on my new quilt!

Also, I have been feeling the need to prove that, though I have been absent on this blog, my artistic experiences have in no way stopped. For instance, here is an old cadet shirt that I altered to fit my beauteous body better, and then painted a rabbit on with fabric paint. Although, my in-laws told me it looked like....pikachu?!! I mean, really! There ARE limits.

Thursday, 16 January 2014

our old computer finally bit the dust. For now we are using a really old and slow one Ben's mom gave us. It's why I haven't been posting. But today I decided, you know what? So what if the scanner doesn't work properly and so what if I can't run photo editing software on this computer...I'm going to write a post!

It's winter. I mean, it has really set in. The lake is frozen enough to drive on. Meanwhile, other 'fub is vacationing in California! Some things aren't fair. If one 'fub is on a vacay in a sunny, warm, place, the other one should be there too! (don't know what a 'fub is? Check out this post)

(I ended up using an online photo editor and it was so un-fun that I apologize for the messiness of the illustrations)

Also, I would like to take this opportunity to point something out. 'Fub and I are twins, and yet, I have a short torso and longer legs, and she's got a loooong torso and shorter legs (as seen below). And then there's 'Stott, who has a long torso AND long legs. So 'Stott shouldn't complain about her body, should she?